Sunshine and Peppermint
by lydiamaartin
Summary: It's the best kind of tragedy, the story of them. - RoseScorpius


**Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.**

**For Jenny (WIZARDOLOGY) because she's epic and awesome and I love her and she loves RoseScorpius :)**

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><p><em>in another life<br>i would make you stay_

-:-

_Dear Scorpius,_

-:-

Oftentimes, Rose thinks the clouds are trying to suffocate the sun.

The glorious shine of it is constantly choked down, throttled, _restrained_ behind a blanket of dull, grey rainclouds which bring only misery as they drizzle water down upon the Earth. When it is free, the sun beams, stretching its brilliant golden rays across the entirety of the heavens and letting the whole world bask in its beautiful light.

Is it some kind of metaphor? Maybe, maybe not.

(Probably not.)

-:-

"Do you ever want to live somewhere else?" he asked, his voice ringing in the tranquility of the afternoon as they lie there, alone and together, gazing at the clouds drifting by.

She turned on her side, a smile crossing her face now that she could properly see him. "All the time. Maybe somewhere sunnier. Like France."

Scorpius snorted, draping one arm around her waist and dragging her closer as she giggled. "France is for ponces. How about Greece?"

"Hm, if you say so," she said doubtfully, brushing a blade of grass out of his hair. "Let's say, when we graduate, we hop on a plane and head to where ever the heck we want, anywhere in the world?"

"Sounds like a plan," he grinned, and then he dragged her in for a kiss that left her heart thumping in her chest and fireworks exploding inside her mind. It was the best kind of afternoon.

-:-

Even more often that that, she thinks of how she misses him.

She misses him in the summer where the sun is at its mightiest, in the spring when flowers thrive in the world around her, in the autumn when leaves spiral through the air, and in the winter when snow coats the surface of the Earth. She misses him when she's drinking coffee or reading a book or just curled up by a fireplace thinking of his smile and his eyes and the way he touched her, so gently as if she were a porcelain doll, when they kissed.

It's a funny sort of existance, wondering if the sun is choked and remembering bittersweet memories. She's not sure she likes it.

-:-

_I miss you._

-:-

"You taste like peppermint," she told him, taking a break from their kiss to catch her breath. "Have I ever told you that?"

"No," Scorpius chuckled, running a hand gently through her curls. "You taste like bubblegum, in case you were wondering."

"It's quite an odd combination," she murmured, fisting her hands in his shirt and pulling him closer with a grin on her face to match the one on his. "Don't you think?"

"Possibly," he said, his free arm curling around her waist, "but does it matter? Even the oddest of combinations can work, Rosie. Just look at potions ingredients."

He took advantage of her surprised giggle to steal another kiss, and the conversation was soon forgotten in the midst of heated kisses and even more heated touches, there curled up under a secret alcove with only the darkness of nighttime to hide their passion. It was the best kind of night.

-:-

Once, she thinks she sees him.

Only once; he takes great care to stay out of her way these days. But she's down in Diagon Alley buying potions ingredients for her new job as a Healer and he's in the Quidditch shop looking for a new broom. The glance they exchange is brief, traded through the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, heartbreaking grey into heartbroken blue.

She has enough time to wonder if he still tastes like peppermint when he turns away. His hair is still so very strikingly blond, his skin so fair, and he's still every bit the prince charming she had envisioned in her daydreams as a girl with delusions of epic romance.

He extends a hand to grasp that of her cousin's, and Rose feels her heart shatter.

Once, she sees him, and once is enough.

-:-

"Rosie," he said, his voice amusedly patient, "what in the name of Merlin are you doing up at six in the morning?"

She looked at him over her shoulder, a coy smile tugging at her lips. He was shirtless, his hair was ruffled, and her favorite smirk of his was on his face, the one that told her he was about a minute away from siezing her and kissing her until she was dizzy.

"Painting," she told him lightly, waving the paintbrush at him and flicking red paint over his chest. "What does it look like?"

"Rosie," he repeated, taking one careful step closer. "You have no artistic ability whatsoever."

She blinked at her masterpiece. It looked rather like a red and pink blob, but she wasn't about to tell him that. "Yes, well – _Scorpius_!"

Her interpretation of his smirk had proven correct. Before she had even noticed, his arms were wrapped around her waist, tugging her closer to his paint-splattered chest, and his lips lost somewhere in her mass of wildfire-red curls.

"Let's eat breakfast," he suggested, and it was the best kind of morning.

-:-

_Love, Rose_

-:-

"You look beautiful," she tells Dominique, adjusting the tiara nestled into her cousin's honey-gold curls, a wistful smile playing on her lips as she envisions what will happen in just half an hour – Dominique, looking like a princess, will walk down the aisle and meet the love of her life at the altar and say her vows and _marry_ him and…

And Rose will be her bridesmaid as she watches her marry Scorpius.

"Rose," Dominique sighs, clasping one hand around Rose's outstretched wrist before she can pull it away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Rose says gently, smoothing down a stray curl of Dominique's. "It wasn't your fault we broke up. Maybe in another life, we were meant to be, but not this one. He's in love with _you_. There's no changing that, even if I wanted to."

Dominique eyes her doubtfully. "You don't want to?"

Rose casts her blue eyes towards the ground. "I still miss him," she confesses, "but that doesn't change anything. It's you he wants to marry. It's you he loves. Don't doubt yourself because of a relationship we ended seven years ago."

"I love you," says Dominique softly, drawing her into a hug. "You're the best cousin ever."

"Don't let the others hear you saying that," Rose jokes, hugging her back, her gaze caught by the veil hanging on the wall opposite her, yet to be positioned into Dominique's hair by the expert hands of Victoire. It's gorgeous, made of silk and lace, passed down from Dominique's mother and her mother before her.

A snapshot of a life where she wears that veil as she glides down the aisle to meet Scorpius flashes before her eyes. But it is gone as quickly as it comes. This is not that life, she reminds herself. She might have made him stay in that other life, instead of letting him leave into the night. But she hadn't, and what's done is done.

"He _loves_ you," she assures Dominique one last time when she pulls back, a smile on her face. "You'll be just fine."

It's the best kind of tragedy, the story of them.

-:-

_so I don't have to say  
>you were the one that got away<em>

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><p><strong>an: in case you haven't noticed, I enjoy breaking these two up far too much for it to be healthy. oh, well. if you're reading this far, please review to let me know what you thought; it'd make my day! :D**

**and ****don't**** favorite without reviewing, please and thank you.**


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